Now there was irony for you. Jax cracked a feeble smile. “Thanks, Hobbes.”
Jax’s afternoon didn’t perk up. He still felt jittery and untethered when he got to work—only a few minutes late, and still wearing his Never Wear a Red Shirt T-shirt, whoops—and discovered that for him, a bar shift with unmedicated ADHD was a unique brand of hell.
Murph kept shooting him looks and, after his third drink mix-up, shoved him out from behind the bar and told him to put the energy to good use.
At least he couldn’t drop the piano.
Ari hadn’t called or texted all day, and Jax’s romantic pessimism was engaged in battle with his trust in Naomi and Murph, who wouldn’t have let him get involved with an asshat. Afra’s problem must have been bigger than Ari had anticipated.
Though if that was the case, surely he would have answered Jax’s late afternoon text ofHope Afra’s okay. Right? Or the follow-up,What can I do with your key?
After an hour, he was behind the bar once again, this time filling drinks as Murph ordered, when Ari arrived. He was still dressed in those sinfully tight jeans, and he wore a messenger bag cross body, which made his shoulders look wider and his torso longer. Jax wondered if he was drooling on the bar.
The crowd moved for him, but Ari didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on Jax as he made his way to the bar.
“I’m an asshole,” Ari said by way of hello.
“Oh?” Jax’s heart thumped.
“I should have called or texted today.”
“Yeah,” Jax agreed. He had seven kinds of cookies to find a home for.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t.” He glanced away, then met Jax’s eyes once again. “Sometimes I go full-on flighty artist when I’m writing. Forget everything. But I shouldn’t have let myself do that today.”
Okay, not an asshat. “Definitely not gentlemanly behavior.” Jax let himself lean into Ari’s space.
“Indeed.” Ari gave a tentative smile. “I really am sorry, Jax. I came here as soon as I lifted my head and saw the time.”
Jax glanced at the clock—almost nine. “That must have been some writing binge.”
Ari blushed dark enough to be seen in the low lighting of the bar. “Yes, it was.” He cleared his throat. “That doesn’t excuse my idiocy, though.” He reached into his bag and pulled out something soft and lumpy. “I’m hoping this might get me back into your good books.”
Curious, Jax took the object. It was cloth—a nice T-shirt, judging by the feel. He unfurled it to get a good look—and burst into laughter.
The majority of the chest was occupied by a large pi symbol with a cartoon drawing of a bushy mustache pasted on the crossbeam. Underneath, it readMagnum Pi.
“A Tom Selleck math joke. It’s almost like you know me.”
A smile tugged at Ari’s lips. “I’m getting there.”
Jax’s heart melted.Definitelynot an asshat. “Okay, you’re forgiven. But only because this shirt is amazing.”
“Good.” Ari smiled at him, and his eyes were soft and tender. Jax’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he clutched the shirt tighter. A guy could get used to being looked at like that.
Unfortunately the look was maybe too addicting. Within ten minutes, Murph was glaring at Ari, and Jax had to chase him away.
“I’m unmedicated today, and I can’t mix drinks with your face”—Jax waved his hands in the general direction of Ari’s head—“doing that.”
One eyebrow went up. “Doing what?”
“Looking at me. Just… go sit somewhere else and let me work.”
So Ari stood slowly, and with one last lingering look that had Jax almost breathless, he disappeared into the break room. Probably for the best. As long as Ari was within eyesight, he would be a distraction.
Not that it helped much, Jax thought ruefully as he fumbled a glass and watched it shatter on the ground. At least it was empty.
“Right, that’s it.” Murph threw a cloth onto the bar top and gave Jax a long look. “You’re useless tonight. Honestly, b’y, the next time you forget them, just call in sick.”
